


Part of You

by TheRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1482205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven/pseuds/TheRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky hates his metal arm. Steve tries to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [你的一部分](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531790) by [addie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/addie/pseuds/addie)



They get him back, more or less. Bucky's memories are a mess, but they're there, for the most part, and he's dealing with the PTSD in a healthy manner. Well, healthier than he could be. He still goes to the shooting range and puts bullet after bullet into photos of the people who tortured him, but it's better than rampaging through the streets of New York. After a year, he's as close to normal as he could be, given all he's been through.

There's one thing that breaks Steve's heart, though, and that's the arm. Bucky holds it stiffly, like he's afraid of it touching anything, and his fingers are always clenched in a fist. He acts like he'll slaughter everything it touches, which might be a real fear of his. Steve doesn't ask, because he's a little afraid of what Bucky will say to him.

He never touches Steve with the arm, even when they're in bed. He keeps the hand fisted in the sheets next to Steve's head when he's on top of him, thrusting into him, and he grips the headboard with it when Steve is on top of him. The fingers leave dents in the metal, but neither of them say anything about it. And when Bucky grazes his fingertips against Steve's jaw or puts a hand on the back of his neck, it's always the right one.

Steve tries to get Bucky to get over the fear of his metal arm. He purposefully touches it when he wants to get Bucky's attention, and Bucky flinches every time he so much as reaches for him. He never says anything about it, but Steve knows it's difficult for him to even let Tony touch the arm—and Tony is trying to develop similar technology for other amputees, so by all accounts, Bucky should feel pretty okay about that.

One night, Steve gets tired of it. He's tired of the way Bucky hates himself, and he's tired of the way he looks like he's afraid he's going to kill Steve if he lets his guard down. He's just...tired of it. So when they're stripping down for bed, he grabs the metal arm by the wrist and looks Bucky right in the eyes.

“Steve—don't,” Bucky says. “I don't want you to get—“

“You can't hurt me anymore, Buck,” Steve says gently, and he pulls him closer. “I'm not the same breakable kid I was in the old days.”

“You know I could kill you if I wanted to,” Bucky chokes out, but he allows himself to be drawn in.

Steve kisses him, keeping his hand on that cold metal wrist until his body heat warms it. He licks his way into Bucky's willing mouth and puts his other hand on the small of Bucky's back and pulls him against him so they can grind into each other. Despite Bucky's obvious discomfort with Steve touching his arm, he gets hard quickly, and Steve carefully pulls him onto the bed with him.

“I don't care what that arm can do,” he says, keeping eye contact as he rolls his hips into Bucky's. “I just care that it's a part of you now, and you hate it.”

“Of course I hate it,” Bucky says, exasperated. “It's part of the monster I was.”

“And it's part of the man I love,” Steve insists. “Bucky, you can't just keep dwelling on the past like this. I love all of you, Buck. All of you. And your arm is part of that. It's a tool, and you can use it for good. I know you can. It doesn't have to be a reminder of your past.”

Bucky smirks.

“What? You think you can just talk away the memories?” he asks, a bitter edge to his words.

“No,” Steve says, “but I think I can help you make new memories that aren't as painful.”

He takes the arm by the wrist again and brings the hand up to his mouth.

“Do you have any feeling in it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says quietly. “If anything, it's more sensitive than my other arm.”

“Good,” Steve says, and he takes one metal digit into his mouth and sucks on it.

Bucky's hips jerk in response. He turns red, but he can't help biting back a moan as Steve hollows out his cheeks and laves at the finger with his tongue. He takes another into his mouth, and Bucky curses. The metal warms quickly, and though the taste is different and the metal doesn't give like flesh, Steve can almost pretend it's Bucky's normal hand he's holding. He takes a third finger in, lavishing attention on each digit, and finally pops them all out of his mouth.

“What the fuck was that about?” Bucky asks, panting.

“I'm making better memories for you,” Steve says simply, reaching into the drawer of the bedside table.

“You're crazy,” Bucky says, but he laughs just the same.

Steve finds a half-used bottle of lubricant and slicks up the metal hand's fingers. Bucky watches him, an expression like wonder on his face, while Steve bends his knees and spreads his legs. Steve guides the metal hand down, and, looking at Bucky all the while, slowly slides the first finger into himself. Steve gasps at the newly-cold metal and the intrusion, but his body warms the metal and his muscles relax enough for him to push the finger in past the first, then second knuckle. It slides in easily after that, and Steve grins.

“You want me to keep going,” he asks, “or do you want to take over?”

Bucky bites his lip and curls his finger inside him. Steve nearly yelps as the fingertip brushes his prostate, and Bucky smirks at him. He slides the finger most of the way out, then back in, again and again until he's relaxed enough to take a second finger, then a third. He fucks Steve on them until he thinks he's ready, and then he removes all three fingers.

“No,” Steve insists, “keep them in. I want you to see how good you can make me feel with that arm.”

Bucky laughs, a choked-off rasp that lets Steve know he has him. A moment later, all three fingers slide back into his hole, and Bucky fucks him shallowly with them until Steve feels like he's about to die.

“Please, Buck,” he whines, “you're driving me crazy...”

“Am I?” Bucky asks, feigning innocence. “Well, okay, if you're sure you want more—“

“Just go deeper, goddammit,” Steve groans.

Bucky kisses him and obeys, fucking him faster and deeper on his fingers. He hits his prostate on every other thrust, keeping him right on the edge but never letting him go over.

“Bucky,” Steve begs, “please, just let me come.”

“I thought you wanted me to make some good memories,” Bucky tells him.

“I want to get off,” Steve snaps.

“Only if I get to fuck you properly after you do,” Bucky says.

“Fuck, yes, anything, just let me come!”

Bucky sets up a frantic pace, dragging his fingers along Steve's prostate with every thrust, and in less than a minute, Steve gives a strangled curse and spills white over his stomach and chest without Bucky touching his cock. He falls back, sated for the moment, and Bucky carefully removes his fingers.

“If it can do all that to you,” Bucky says, “I'll let you touch my arm whenever you want.”

“Do you feel better about it?” Steve asks, cleaning himself off with tissues.

“Sort of?” Bucky says, looking at his metal arm. “I could still kill you with it, but you felt amazing.”

“I'll take that,” Steve says with a breathless laugh. “You gonna fuck me now?”

“You ready?”

Steve hooks a leg around Bucky's waist.

“I'm more than ready,” Steve says, and he grinds his already half-hard cock against Bucky's. “No refractory period, remember?”

Bucky snorts.

“Thank God for that serum,” he says with a laugh.

“Come on and fuck me, Sergeant,” Steve orders.

Bucky kisses him and obeys. 

This time, his metal hand grips Steve's hip instead of the sheets.


End file.
